Fanfic: Inuyasha

Title: Stranger

SesshomaruxXxInuyasha

Genre: Yaio/Incest

Disclaimer: You know there's a reason why this is placed in a fanfiction site, right? Fan's fiction?

Note: yup it's a fire rat, thanks - for the review, hope you won't be disappointed on the outcomes. :']

~xXx~

Chapter 3

"Hey you there! You're not from around here are you?"

You would think by this time that he is used to chaos, that nothing can made even a twist of shiver to his spine or a tremor to his façade of calm apathy towards anything remotely alive. He has seen too much, and felt so little to be affected. And yet the image of the safe haven adorning the end of the creek—burned to the ground, made him so damning close to madness.

"You shouldn't be here, haven't you heard of the demon in this area?"

He knelt infront of a flattened rose bush, and scooped up a tiny bud, its soft red petals disintegrating from his touch and made a pathetic descent to the murky pool of mud at his feet.

"Oi, are you listening!?"

He was too late, he realized that now.

"W-wait, look at his hair! Isn't that—"

"And those marks on his face,"

"And that garb,"

"Don't tell me—"

How many are they? He really can't remember, but he remembered wishing there were more, because even when he was finished with the whole village, he still felt this unsated urge to kill. He can't even remember much because it all seems mechanical somehow, all he remembers was how he slash every thing that screams.

Am I boring you? You should be, his actions after all are nothing but to spent this undeniable pull to shred his own body. Still his feet kept on moving. He haven't noticed it but he has been walking for over an hour by now and that his gaze has been shifting to anything that has the color red on it. The man didn't realize that he was looking for a body, a specific child-like body clad in red yukata.

Then he heard something. His ears perked up, trying to confirm his thoughts. Roaming around, his feet led him back to the garden. He was already on the side of the manor when a dash of wind carried a scent familiar to him. When he pushed the door open, or what's left of it, a shadow caught his attention. It quickly moved farther and into the space between the crevices made by the two pillars supporting the left side of the rundown mansion. He knew it's him and an amazing relief he never knew possible to exist suddenly seized him.

He was unable to utter anything at first, but when he was able to push away the lump that threaten to burst in his throat, he announced, "It's me," more like a murmur as he tries to calm himself from the 'what if's' that's been racing through his mind. His words echoed through the empty room. He sounded so tranquil he even doubted his own voice. But no one answered back.

"It is me," he repeated slowly, his ears straining to hear as he stepped closer to the shadows.

"DON'T!" the shout stopped him on his tracks. It is Inuyasha, he has been sure for awhile but nothing beats hearing his voice, his breath. The small face peaked behind the pillar. When he was certain the boy was alive, the man has readied himself for the worse. He knew the boy won't be left unscathed

And sure enough, the boy was covered in blood. It was not Inuyasha's blood for that he was certain and he unconsciously let go of a thankful sigh, but the expression on the child's face is the same as that of the dead.

"D-don't come any closer."

"Why?" again the tranquility of his voice betrays the insides of his thoughts. What did this child saw? During those times he couldn't protect him—wait, protect? He almost laughed at himself. When did he thought of protecting this bundle of rags and flesh? He, who doesn't care about anyone even himself? He, who knows nothing but to kill? And yet isn't that the same thought that keeps repeating on his mind as he went on his quiet rampage, cursing himself for not being there when this bundle of rags and flesh needed him the most? Pity, if only he could laugh.

"I-I…" the child stuttered then with determined eyes, he stepped out of the shadows and with the rays of the silver moon said, "I am a monster," the little child straightened his kimono, almost soaked in dried blood, and waited for the man to look at him directly. There's a certain eagerness in his voice as if waiting for the man's reaction to his confession. When the man's expression didn't change as he thought it would, the child was confused, "Didn't you heard me!? I'm an akuma! And, and…I'm dangerous and—"

But the man still continued his steps. Inuyasha backed away cautiously from his closeness, screaming, "I'm not human! You hear me? I'm evil and—"

Inuyasha was not able to finish when the man caged him on his arms. The child was stunned for a moment that he lay still on the man's embrace. The man was so warm, so much warmer than the much-needed fire during winters. But within seconds, the child struggled to get out. Inuyasha scratched, pulled, pushed and even bit the man, but the older one won't let go. Inuyasha screamed, "get away from me!" again and again until his voice runs dry and all he could do was to sob hystericcally.

When the child was finally exhausted, Inuyasha felt the small pat on his head, "shhhs, it's all right, everything is all right," the man's voice was like a balm that soothes him instantly, and the pat gently turned to strokes as the man hesitantly raked his hand over the little one's hair.

"I-I don't want to hurt you," the child whispered as he clutch the man's yukata in his tight fists, "I don't want…to hurt anyone." And the child finally gave in to fatigue and surrendered to a deep sleep.

The man can't take his eyes away for Inuyasha with his wounds closing with a rate no normal human can imagine. How ironic, he whispered to himself as he let the child rest limply in his lap.

Never in his life did he ever thought that a bad blood, so fragile he wants to break it himself, would be snuggling comfortably beside him.